You Make Stupid People Look Smart

When they ask when the crash began the answer will be something like it might have begun on July 23 or maybe it started days, weeks or months before.

They place too much significance on the start because the circumstances surrounding it cannot and will not be repeated because it would be impossible.

What they ought to focus on is the current situation and whether the impact of the crash will be brief of lasting.

So we put on the music and look at parts and pieces as we move forward from a strange present into an uncertain future.

 

You Make Stupid People Look Smart

The man says POTUS is a master negotiator wonders how I can roll my eyes, shrug my shoulders and make my displeasure known so easily.

“He is a master baiter, delusional devoted to whatever serves his cause.”

“Oh, so you are one of those.”

“Yeah, a free thinker who isn’t a sniveling sycophant who understands reason, logic and fact.”

“MAGA, MAGA. That makes you guys go crazy.”

“You make stupid people look smart. Won’t be all that long before your immoral monster finds a way to disappoint and you try to say you knew all along.”

“Name calling is all you liberals can do.”

“Should I all pull up Twitter and show you dear leader’s comments today, ‘horseface’ and ‘Crazy’ come to mind. Or maybe I should pull up the naked pictures of the foolish ‘First Lady’ and her meaningless campaign against bullying.

Nah, no point. He could kick you in the balls and you’d say thank you may I have another.”

****

I throw on some more music and try to fight past the irritation and the fear.

The irritation I understand as well as the anger but the fear throws me for a loop. Not sure where it comes from and every time I try to wrap my hands around it the specter evades my grip.

So I hunt for in the dark, wanting to run the other direction but anger pushes me forward to pursue it.

I am too old for this crap and not yet decrepit so I wish to act as a pure Taurus.

First we capture and study it and once we have its measure we lower our horns so that it can be gored and trampled.

Tick-tocking The Days Away

The doc says he clipped about four polyps and sent them off to be checked out but says not to worry.

“Everything looks pretty normal, but we won’t know until pathology officially clears them.”

I say thank you and go about my business. I have multiple concerns and worries but cancer isn’t one of them.

It knows better to mess with a younger Wilner because I can do what my father couldn’t…at least for now I can.

What I can’t stop considering is what happens if my lifespan matches his.

My overall genetic package is pretty solid, 75% of  my grandparents lived into their nineties and I exercise more than dad ever did.

There are plenty of reasons to feel confident and better medical technology isn’t one of the main reasons, not that it doesn’t play a part.

Still a soft and rational voice says sometimes lightning strikes and the unexpected happens.

What if I am down to my last 26 years?

I am in ok shape now pushing hard to move into good or even great.

That doesn’t provide a way to roll back the miles on the body or enable me to ignore the likelihood that my best physical years are behind me.

Nor does it provide a snapshot or foretelling of how close I can get to best again. It is possible I could get close enough to feel pretty good most of the time.

Regardless of this I find myself asking the very hard question of if I only have 26 years left how do I want to live them and what do I want to do.

Twenty-six years isn’t insignificant but neither does it feel like forever anymore.

Do I really want to fight with people who are willfully blind, ignorant and or stupid?

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